


i will bring you back (or die trying)

by pandibicth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Beaches, Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Kinda, Kissing, Lucid Dreaming, M/M, Not Beta Read, POV Dean Winchester, Post-Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower, Sea, Unreliable Narrator, Wet Dream, because there's water, haha - Freeform, mermaid!castiel, oupsie SPOILERS THEY KISS, there's no sex seriously i'm kidding, weird writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 14:22:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15753501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandibicth/pseuds/pandibicth
Summary: Season 12 Finale Spoilers !After the death of Castiel, the disappearance of  his mother and the birth of the probably evil nephilim, Dean has way too much on his mind to let himself relax, but he finally falls asleep.i'm terrible at summaries





	i will bring you back (or die trying)

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first post in the supernatural tag so i'm kind of afraid but i liked the ambiance of this fic so what the hell  
> english isn't my first language btw so sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes i might have done HOWEVER the sudden changes in the way dean is speaking are intentional !!!!

Dean was disappointed. Don’t get him wrong, any dream was better than the nightmares he kept having, who, more often than not, ended with him waking up screaming, and even if he would never admit it, sobbing, and he was being an ungrateful brat right now, but this was disappointing. He never went to the beach, but he always thought he would swim in clear water under a bright blue sky, soft sand under his toes and maybe a blonde girl waiting by his towel. This place was clearly not what he meant when he said he wanted to see the sea (no pun intended.) The sky was grey and cloudy and the wind was quite violent. He only saw sharp and hard grey rocks behind him, like the ones he could feel under his feet, scratching them. In front of him, dull green water and violent waves as far as he could see. The water came to his knees, rarely splashing higher than his thighs. He was naked, he realized when he looked down, which would have been an issue if Dean wasn't pretty sure, at this point, that this was a dream. That was partially why he was so childishly pissed off at the landscape. Dean made a mental note to have a word or two with his subconscious, hoping to make it learn what a cool beach was and that fucking swimsuits were a thing.

He walked slowly on the water, which now came to his waist, his chest and then his shoulders. When he was fully immerged, and only his head was dry, he took a deep breath and dived into the cold water. He then immediately proceeded to inhale a tremendous amount of salted water when a bigger wave came over his head when he tried to breathe. After he spat and coughed burning water and mentally flipped off the fucker that came to work one day and decided water should be salty, he tried to swim again. Sharp rocks cut his knees and he distractly registered the burn he felt from the salt on his damaged skin. He swam in a very primitive manner, who was probably ridiculous, but it was his dream and no one was here to judge him, and since when honest citizens couldn't swim like a dog anymore without being mocked? When did this country become such a tyranny? He didn’t come here to be mocked ! When he resurfaced, wet hair sticking to his forehead and drops of water falling in his eyes, he briefly stopped to wonder what exactly he was doing here. Dean knew that he could never catch a break, even when he slept, so what was exactly the point of this increasingly displeasing dream? He then sneezed and decided to keep moving forward if you don’t want to die of hypothermia, Socrates.

Dean didn't know for how long he swam, but he couldn't see the coast anymore and he felt nothing under his feet. He put himself on his back and stared at the sky, floating in the water. It was strangely peaceful and for once, he didn’t feel the need to think. He was here, now, and that was all that mattered. For the first time since he was here, he almost enjoyed the landscape. At least the water didn’t seem so cold anymore. He decided that the spot could be pretty cool, if you wanted to write poetry about unrequited love. Not that he ever read anything like that. Poetry was for chicks. He couldn't even read anyway. What ?

His ears were still underwater but he heard a soft humming who dragged him from his thoughts about being a manly man who didn't read poetry. When he turned around, he only saw a large rock which certainly wasn't here a minute ago. But again, he was in a dream, so what the hell? He felt the inexplicable want to see it from up close, feeling that it was somehow important, but before he could start doing anything, he felt the rock under himself and shivered at being suddenly out of the water. Dean suspiciously eyed the rock, like he expected it to suddenly break into a strip tease.

A big cloud had moved, and the sun was shining again, coloring the water a plaisant soft orange. He hummed, appreciating the warmth on his wet skin. A deep, gravelly voice who was annoyingly familiar startled him and he almost fell from the unexpected noise. 

“Hello, Dean.” He turned around, to see focused blue eyes staring right into his soul. Dean iddly thought that Cas’s eyes were exactly the color of the sky in his ideal beach fantasy. Cas was shirtless, or naked, he supposed, since in place of his legs, he had a shiny, deep black, fish tail. His hair was more messy than ever. A thousand questions ran through Dean’s mind, but he only managed “Why are you a mermaid ?”, to which Cas responded, dryly : “I believe the exact term is merman.” 

“You just showed up to discuss grammar ?” 

Cas broke into an almost invisible smile, that people who didn't know him like Dean did wouldn't even see, but that he caught immediately. He kind of took pride in it, to be honest. Not that he had really studied Cas’s smile. What the fuck. He never said that, stop putting words in his mouth. “This is your dream, Dean, we can discuss whatever you want.” Dean thought about the real Castiel, falling on his knees, stabbed by Lucifer. His chest ached and that was definitely not what he wanted to talk about with a shirtless Cas. Not that the shirtless thing mattered or was attractive or anything. Really he barely noticed. He didn’t even know why he said that. The mermaid turned to see him, his face bathed in the soft color of the sun. “Or we can just make out.” 

Dean took pride in the fact that he didn't even fell off the rock, but he knew that there was no way he could hide how red his face was, but he sure as hell could deny it until the day he died, and that was exactly what he was going to do because he wasn't a blushing virgin. Not anymore. He never was. What ? And that was when he decided that Sam will never fucking know about this dream.“Why would i want to do that ?”

“I am inside your head, Dean. I know exactly what you want. I know all about your little feelings and emotions you like to hide under a big pile of ‘no homo’ “ The fucker even did the air quote thing and Dean decided that this was definitely a nightmare. 

“I am just a creation of your mind. I am Castiel because it’s him you wanted to see, but really I am you. You can tell me anything, it stays between us. Or you, I guess.”

“I miss him” Dean simply said, because he decided that he didn't care he was speaking to himself like a crazy person because it was his dream and the only person here to judge him was a mermaid and he would never be caught taking shit from a thing who was half sardine.The mermaid nodded. There was not much more to say. If this Cas was really like the real one, he understood what was left unsaid. What Dean was so afraid to say. A cloud covered the sun and Dean remembered that it was just a dream and that he was talking to himself. A tear rolled on his cheek and he let his hand caress fake Cas’s jawline. “I love him,” he whispered, afraid for his voice to break if he said it louder. The confession felt relieving but it only made him remember that the one he wanted the most to see wasn't here and Dean couldn't stop another tear to fall. Or the dozen others. He stood there forever, or maybe only a few minutes, sobbing on Dream Cas’s collarbone, inhaling his smell that was nothing like the real one's. Dean’s hand went up to touch the black hair on the back of the mermaid’s neck. He smelled like clean rain and wind. His fingers got stuck in his salted dry hair. Fake Cas smiled sadly “I know.” 

Cas’s eyes shone into the dim light and Dean breathed the sent of his skin. The kiss was chaste, not at all making out like Fake Cas suggested earlier, like Dean was afraid that the dream would fade and the illusion would shatter if he made a too sudden movement. Everything was blurry around them and nothing mattered. Nothing mattered because at least he was kissing Cas. It wasn’t Cas, really, he knew, but he cupped the mermaid’s chin and felt his stubble and it didn’t matter anymore because it sure as hell felt like Cas. Dream Cas hummed and let his tail curl around Dean’s legs. His lips were dry and salty and his hands were firmly grabbing Dean’s waist and Dean refused to let himself think about the weirdness of the situation and just let himself have that, because it was probably the closest he would ever come to actually kiss Cas and he decided that it was better than nothing, and he let himself have that and not think about anything else than how nice the tousled hair felt under his fingers.

When he heard Sam’s voice slowly waking him up, he whispered to Cas’s lips, imagining that it was the real one he was talking to : “I will bring you back, or die trying.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can talk to me on twitter @pandibicth i don't really have any mutual interested in supernatural so hmu


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